


"The Reconstruction"

by Coralrose10



Category: Schindler's List (1993)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Film production history, Gen, celebrity fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 04:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10482624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coralrose10/pseuds/Coralrose10
Summary: It is March 1993, and production of SCHINDLER'S LIST has moved to Auschwitz-Birkenau.  Being in such a setting causes everyone involved in the film, including director Steven Spielberg and actors Liam Neeson and Ralph Fiennes, considerable emotional trauma.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by ["Empathy"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9568754) by [Coralrose10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coralrose10/pseuds/Coralrose10). 



> This work of fanfiction is based, more or less loosely, on the actual production history of the classic movie SCHINDLER'S LIST. The story incorporates details from Steven Spielberg's life, and uses one or two authentic Spielberg quotes. It also incorporates Liam Neeson's own feelings (extrapolated from interviews) concerning Ireland and its conflicts.

**"The Reconstruction"**

   Feeling like a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, Steven Spielberg, the celebrated director, trudged through dirty snow as he left the set of _Schindler’s List_ , his latest movie–and his first movie dealing with the Holocaust. Shooting this film whose main character was Oskar Schindler–Gentile savior of 1,100 Jews–had taken Steven, finally, to the very gates of Auschwitz-Birkenau. With his cast, his crew, and his friends the “Schindler survivors” (a group of eight Jewish men and women who had been rescued by the real Oskar Schindler and who were present there in Poland, watching the filming), Steven had arrived at Auschwitz the evening before, putting up at a hotel near the preserved extermination camp. Before the present day’s filming (on a “reconstructed Auschwitz” just outside the gates of the real camp, on which no filming was allowed) had commenced, a tour of Auschwitz-Birkenau had taken place: crew, cast, and survivors saw the entire camp. For the eight Schindler survivors and the movie’s producer, Branko Lustig (who had survived the Holocaust thanks not to Schindler but to another sympathetic German, an officer), the tour had been a virtual turning back of the clock to the period when they were in Auschwitz, however briefly. For himself and everyone else, Steven reflected, the tour had been a learning exper–no, that sounded far too detached. It had not been a “learning experience”; it had been a ride on an emotional roller coaster.

That morning as they had all been led, by their tour guide, from barrack to barrack–and into the very crematoria–distressed murmurs, embarrassed coughs, sniffles, sighs, and muffled sobs had regularly broken the eerie silence of the grounds. Even after everyone had passed back through the camp’s tall, iron gate (topped by that infamous sign reading “ _Arbeit macht Frei_ ”–“Work will make you free”) to take a much-needed rest before the day’s shoot got underway, the morbid mood persisted; several people present even claimed that Auschwitz still had a distinctive, rancid odor.

Well before his arrival at Auschwitz, Steven–who had lost seventeen of his own Polish-Jewish ancestors in the Holocaust–had resigned himself to the strong possibility that he would cry, and in front of people he did not really know all that well. Ironically enough, the tears never came; what came in their place were feelings of intense anger–at the Nazis, at their supporters, and at all those who had stood by and watched as their fellow human beings were forced onto trains bound for the camps. Like most March days in Poland, this one–March 19, 1993– was freezing cold; yet Steven was boiling inside, so much so that he wondered, fleetingly, if he had a fever. Feeling suddenly unable to walk another step on his journey to the hotel, he sank down upon a bench just outside the limits of the set. He was grateful that some snow from the previous day’s storm still lay on the bench: now he would cool off physically, if not emotionally. Feeling oddly childlike all of a sudden, he rolled a fistful of the snow into a ball and watched it sparkle in the light of the evening sun.

“Steven? Forgive me, but you mustn’t sit out in the cold like this. You’ll get ill.” It was a quiet, Irish voice that spoke–Liam Neeson’s voice–and it came as Steven’s thoughts were reverting to the merciless bullying he had endured as one of very few Jewish children in his Phoenix, Arizona school. The director gazed up now at the kindly, 6'4" actor he had cast as Oskar Schindler, regretting that there had not been someone like Liam around to shield him from his own childhood tormentors. Though six years older than Liam, Steven was nine inches shorter and had always gotten “protective” vibes from the way the younger man related to him. Surely if Liam had been present all those years ago, he would not have stood by, as others had, and watched his schoolmate be humiliated and hurt...

Somewhat embarrassed, Steven quickly dashed the snowball against the bench, tried to stand–and became lightheaded. “Here,” Liam said, offering his hand. As Steven allowed himself to be helped to his feet, he saw true concern in Liam’s normally placid, blue eyes. A series of questions seemed to hang in the air as the two men headed, in silence, back to their hotel.

It was when they entered the lobby that Steven felt a twinge, and clutched his stomach. Liam’s expression went from concerned to alarmed. “You think you’re going to be ill?” he asked with some urgency.  
Steven shook his head. He was not nauseous, but anxious. “I have cramps in my stomach, from nerves.”  
Pressing his lips together as might a caring parent, Liam nodded. “I can imagine. What you need is a drink.” His gaze went to the bar. “Here’s an idea: I’ll bring you up an old Irish remedy. It’ll...relax you.” He winked.  
In spite of himself, Steven smiled. “An old Irish remedy,” he repeated weakly. “Sounds good. Thanks, Liam.”  
Casually, Liam replied, “Don’t mention it. Least I can do.”

Upstairs in his room, Steven fell into a chair and waited. Now more than ever it hit him that, in one sense at least, he was alone here at Auschwitz: Katie, his wife, had remained behind at their rented Krakow house with their children–who, Steven had judged, were too young to be near the set, let alone the actual camp. (Already he had kept them away from the other sets, replicas of the Krakow Ghetto and the Plaszow concentration camp, as much as he possibly could.) Alienation was a feeling more than familiar to him from his school days; it had been considerably less familiar ever since his career had taken off. Yet how fitting that it should take a project like _Schindler’s List_ to bring some of the old lonesomeness back again.

A knock sounded at his door: Liam was outside with the drink. “Come in,” Steven called, trying not to sound as vulnerable as he felt.  
“Like I said, it’s an old Irish remedy,” said Liam with a grin as he entered. “Equal parts brandy and port! Drink it off all at once, and it will relieve the tension you’re feeling.” Steven accepted the tall glass, and hesitated. “Go on,” his friend prompted gently. “It’ll do you good.”  
Needing no further encouragement, Steven downed the drink. Within minutes his stomach cramps had dissipated, and within an hour he was sound asleep.

****

Steven slept heavily for several hours; when he awoke, at 10:03 PM, he felt thoroughly calm. And then, all at once, a terrible thought struck him: the filming of the gas-chamber scene was scheduled for tomorrow! Steven had forgotten all about–pushed to the back of his mind–this sequence in which the “Schindler women,” having been sent to Auschwitz-Birkenau by mistake, get so far as _inside_ the deadly chamber before a timely telephone call from their employer, Schindler, saves their lives. Especially since it would feature many Polish-Jewish extras who were survivors or descendants of survivors, the scene was sure to be a major ordeal to shoot. Steven groaned audibly; all his prior anxiety was back. As he pondered, for the hundredth time, just what he had gotten himself into with this movie, he began to weep.

****

In the adjacent room, Ralph Fiennes–the young, English actor who in _Schindler’s List_ played the SS commander Amon Goeth–was falling asleep in vague awareness of the sobbing sounds coming through his wall. “Who’s got the room next to mine?” he asked himself drowsily. “Oh yes–Steven. That must be him, then. Perhaps someone should do something...” He got no further in his thoughts; sleep overcame him.

When Ralph awoke a half hour later, it was to the sounds of rapid footsteps and anxious, low voices outside in the hallway. The unaccustomed noises troubled him. It was only the _Schindler’s List_ people on this landing, he recalled. Suddenly alert, he sat up in bed, his heart pounding. Had somebody taken ill? Was there a fire? Had one of the older people...? Frightened, he threw on his dressing gown and rushed out into the hall.

There Ralph encountered Poldek Pfefferberg, an 80-year-old Schindler survivor to whom he had grown quite close. Poldek was standing outside his room across from Ralph’s; his younger wife, Mila (of whom Ralph was also very fond), was just leaving a room at the end of the hallway. She glanced back into the room once before shutting its door firmly but softly behind her.  
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Ralph blurted.  
“Shh...It’s all right,” Poldek soothed. “The girl in that room down there–she’s a Polish extra–was upset; Mila had to give her a pill to calm her. She’ll be okay now–don’t worry.” He turned to some others from the film who were standing about. “Let’s all go back to bed; it’s been a long day,” he said.

Sighing with relief, Ralph smiled feebly at Mila as she came toward him and Poldek, a bottle of what Ralph took to be nighttime aspirin in her hand. “She’s finally asleep,” Mila reassured them. Her dark brown eyes searched the turquoise ones of her young friend. “Ralph, darling, would you like something, also–to help you sleep?” She hardly needed to say _why_ a sedative might be needed on that night in particular.  
Quite sure there were others present who were more in need of sedating than he was, Ralph shook his head. “No–I’ll be fine, Mila. But thanks.”

Back in the pitch dark of his room, Ralph found his mind swimming with upsetting images of the real Auschwitz-Birkenau. He suddenly remembered how he had heard Steven weeping next door (he had not dreamed this, he was certain). Should he have mentioned the fact to Mila and Poldek? Listening now through the wall, Ralph could hear only silence. Still-poor Steven! By day he evidently kept a lot bottled inside! Ralph cast his mind back and realized that he’d seen Steven cry only once so far: during the shooting of an episode in which Amon Goeth orders a female Plaszow inmate killed for suggesting that a newly constructed building in the camp is unstable. The dreadful irony of the scene is that, having murdered the woman, Goeth then turns to the rest of his “workers” and commands that the building be torn down and reconstructed–“like she said.” “Replaying” it now in the engulfing darkness and silence made the scenario seem, to Ralph, all the more tragic than it had while he was acting it. Sighing deeply and shaking his head as if to clear it, Ralph returned to his bed. The landing was deathly quiet for the rest of the night.

****

At 11:45 the next morning Liam Neeson stood, with some of the German actors cast as Nazis, on the Auschwitz set. Dressed in their costumes (which in Liam’s case included a luxurious, fur-lined coat), the actors were all waiting to learn when or if Steven would need them for filming that day. Liam consulted his watch, then looked toward the building representing the gassing facility; the gas-chamber sequence, projected to take the entire morning, ought to be finishing up soon. If the director was satisfied with what had been achieved that morning, he would tackle the subsequent scene, in which Oskar Schindler and the male Nazis appeared, right after lunch. If dissatisfied, he might put the scene, which portrayed the Schindler women’s exit from Auschwitz, off for one more day. Liam glanced again at his watch. He felt nervous, all of a sudden...

“ _Hier kommen Sie_!” exclaimed a German actor, pointing toward a great number of women–actresses playing Schindler survivors and SS guards–emerging from the distant building. As the women approached, the bystanders could see that most of them were highly agitated. One actress–a blonde, Polish woman–was crying profusely; a visibly upset Steven had his arm around her. Clearly, Liam realized, the filming of the near-gassing episode had been at least as much of an ordeal as Steven (and everyone else) feared it would be.

Among the women Liam recognized the Israeli actress Adi Nitzan, who in the movie played Mila Pfefferberg. Adi’s eyes were dry, but she was out of breath. Gently, Liam touched her shoulder and whispered, “It was bad, I can tell.”  
Adi gasped, “It was so _real_! Once we were all packed inside that little room we actually started panicking; we weren’t even acting! And then, when Steven turned the lights out, the blonde lady over there had an actual panic attack–because she was _born inside a concentration camp_...Oh, good–Ms. Horowitz is here to take care of her.”  
Following Adi’s gaze, Liam looked on as Schindler survivor Niusia Horowitz, an elegantly dressed, Polish Jewish woman in her fifties, approached Steven and the blonde actress. Hugging the still-weeping actress tenderly, Niusia began to comfort her in Polish and to lead her away from the set.

A miserable-looking Steven watched them leave; he then turned to Liam and the German actors and remarked, “Well, at least we won’t have to redo any of that. No, the first take was perfect. I got what I wanted from them–“ His voice cracking from emotion, Steven pressed his hand to his mouth, turned on his heel, and walked quickly away from the group. He needed some time alone before filming resumed.

****

So that everyone would have ample chance to calm down, the day’s lunch break was extended from one hour to two. At 2:00, preparation to shoot the sequence in which Schindler’s female workforce leaves Auschwitz began. The scene took place beside the camp's infamous railroad tracks, so chillingly re-created on the replica set.  
Having spent the morning listening to his CD recording of Beethoven's inspiring opera _Fidelio_ , and at a loss for what to do with his afternoon, Ralph Fiennes decided to brave the cold weather and watch the filming. Already behind the camera when he arrived on set at 2:15 were Ben Kingsley (who played Itzhak Stern), Caroline Goodall (Schindler’s wife, Emilie), and the eight Schindler survivors. Before the camera stood an actor playing a camp official, actresses playing SS guards, and rows of actresses playing the Jewish girls and women. About one hundred additional actresses (more of Schindler's workforce) were grouped together at a more distant point; and still further on stood Liam as an impeccably dressed, physically imposing Schindler. On the railroad tracks stood the deportation trains, their doors open to receive the recently traumatized Jews.

Seeing the trains reminded Ralph of something; he got the attention of Niusia Horowitz and asked in an undertone, “How did they get on with the–“ feeling a twinge of embarrassment, he paused and rephrased his question–“the scene before this one, Ms. Horowitz? Did you hear anything?”  
Looking solemn, Niusia shrugged and said, in her halting English, “It was bad–for all the women, for Steven. One actress was born in Plaszow, so when she went in the shower today she got...what is the English word?”  
“Hysterical?” suggested Ralph.  
“Yes, hysterical. She cried and cried. But it’s all done now, thank God.”  
In front of the camera, all was ready. “Action” was called, and–as always when Steven spoke that word during the _Schindler’s List_ shoot–everything within the camera’s range seemed suddenly to enter a time warp...

The German official was reading names from a list: “Pfefferberg, Mila...Dresner, Ruth...Dresner, Danka...Nussbaum, Sidonia...” One by one, the girls and women with these names crossed the distance to the tracks and, holding onto each other for support, boarded a train car and stood–shivering but safe–inside it. The second group having rushed forth also, the area beside the tracks was now a sea of bodies and of sounds: agitated cries, barking guard dogs, the whistle of the train. It was a sea that was surging away from death and toward life...

All at once a part of the sea surged backward as two little girls (one of whom was Danka Dresner) were snatched up by SS unwilling to let Jewish children go without a fight. Chaos ensued: the girls squealed in terror; Chaja Dresner, Danka’s mother, screamed her daughter’s name again and again before collapsing into the arms of her companions, some of whom seemed to be urging her to board the train before it was too late. From the sidelines Ralph watched, as aghast as if the horrid events playing out before him were actually happening...

And, just like that, Schindler was on the scene: charging forward, he shouted at the Nazi handling Danka, “Hey! Hey! What are you doing?! Those are mine! These are my workers; they should be on my train! ” Grabbing Danka’s hand, Schindler proceeded to explain just why she was essential to his factory: her fingers were the perfect size for certain polishing work. So authoritative was his manner that not even the SS man could resist it. “Back on the train!” he called–and into the cars went all of Schindler’s female workforce. Then the train began to move...

“Cut!” commanded Steven. He announced, “Well–this is another scene I won’t have to re-shoot. The way all of you did it just now–it couldn’t possibly be better. I mean it.” His voice was about to crack; he cleared his throat. “So... tomorrow at 8:30 we’ll pick up filming where we just left off and, if all goes well, leave here for good at 5:00. Thank you for bearing with me; I know that today was _very_ hard for everyone.”

As others murmured their agreement, Ralph realized that he himself was crying. The tears came, he knew, from a combination of watching the scene (Liam’s part especially), hearing how emotional Steven was–and pondering Amon Goeth’s lost potential for good. It struck Ralph then just how much he regretted the fate of the person he played. Amon Goeth had felt _something_ for the Jewish girl Helen Hirsch; to others he had occasionally been humane. Goeth _could_ have given up his Nazi ideology, and perhaps been another Schindler...Oh, if only things had gone differently! Ralph shook his head numbly as the tears continued to fall.

Presently, he felt Niusia’s hand on his back. She herself had been one of Schindler’s child workers; today she resided in Poland still, yet she lived (to use her words) “in the present.” As she had done with the hysterical actress, Niusia gave Ralph a hug.  
“It’s all so horrid. Everything...everywhere,” he moaned.  
“I know, _kochanie_ , I know,” she comforted, using a term of endearment from her native Polish. “You’ll feel better tomorrow night, when you’re away from this place–you’ll see. We’ll _all_ feel better.”  
“She’s probably right,” he told himself as he let Niusia stroke his back. And yet deep down Ralph suspected that he, at least, would not _truly_ feel better until he had finally left Poland for good.

****

Two days later, on the set representing the Schindler factory, Liam’s Schindler was addressing Ezra Dagan’s Rabbi Menasha Levartov. The rabbi, having miraculously survived Goeth’s earlier attempts to shoot him dead in the Krakow Ghetto, was now in a far better place as one of Schindler's finest workers.  
“Sun’s going down,” observed Schindler cryptically as he dried his wet hands with a towel.  
The rabbi was puzzled. “Yes, it is.”  
“What day is this?” Schindler wondered aloud. “Friday? It’s Friday, isn’t it.”  
The rabbi’s face was blank. “Is it?”  
With good-natured sternness, Schindler looked directly into the rabbi’s eyes and demanded, “What’s the matter with you! You should be preparing for the Sabbath. Shouldn’t you?”  
“Cut,” said Steven. “Great, overall. But, Liam, let’s try that last line again, this time with more of a smile. Have a harder time concealing your delight in what you’re doing for this man.” 

Readily, Liam complied.  “Sure. Be glad to, Steven. But first–a break? The loo, you know.”  Steven grinned. “Take five,” he announced.

The minute he was safely outside the “factory,” Liam broke down in tears. Swinging open the door of a men’s lavatory, he entered the empty room, leaned against a wall, covered his face with both hands, and sobbed.  
Such crying bouts, he well knew, had been anything but uncommon during the _Schindler’s List_ shoot. As Steven would recall years later, “People were always breaking down...I had crew members that would walk away from the camera in tears and not come back for ten minutes.” Liam had seen others cry: Steven, Mr. Lustig, all of the survivors, several of the crew members, most of the actresses–and Ralph. But this was the first time he, Liam Neeson, had cried–and he understood quite well _why_ he was crying, and at this of all moments...

Shooting the scene with Rabbi Levartov had brought to his mind the ongoing Catholic-Protestant conflict that so spoiled the history of his native Ireland. Growing up Catholic in Protestant Northern Ireland, Liam had heard stories of killings and even witnessed some violence himself; in Protestant and Catholic neighbors he had seen bigotry, even hatred. And yet to this day he thought the world of the Irish people: not the Northern Irish or the Irish Catholics, but the Irish people. Still...what a pity that too few of those he had known would bring themselves to do what Schindler did in that beautiful little scene: give hospitality and respect to a man with religious beliefs different to his own.

The “Schindler Jews,” however, were another story. They were not bigots...No, they treated both Liam and Ralph almost like members of their own families! Liam sobbed harder (though from happiness now) as he remembered the wonderful, impromptu dinner party that survivors, cast, and crew had enjoyed, at the Spielbergs’ rented home, after returning from Auschwitz the other night. Leo Rosner, a survivor and musician portrayed in the film, had turned up with his accordion; there was Jewish music and dancing. Liam smiled just a bit as he recalled Ralph’s astonished reaction to it all: Ralph, who had never seen anything like that in all his 30 years (The whole spectacle, in fact, had resembled a scene from _Fiddler on the Roof_.) But to him, to Liam, and to all those watching, it had been pure joy to see such lovely people–who had endured so much misery and come so near to death–finally “let loose” and celebrate life.

With a start Liam realized that five minutes had more than passed. What they must be thinking of him on the set! Gingerly, so as not to spoil his makeup further, he tended to his face with the fine, silk handkerchief that was a part of Schindler’s elegant wardrobe. He then breathed deeply to calm himself before stepping out into the corridor.

Sure enough, Steven had left the set to search for him. “We can fix your makeup, don’t worry,” he told his Schindler, with a sympathetic smile. “Are you all right, Liam?”  
“Yeah. Yeah, I am–thank you Steven. Just had to get something out is all.”  
With empathy, the director nodded. “I figured that was it.”  
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to hold things up in there.”  
“Well, what’s ten minutes, Liam. There’s nothing to forgive, either; it’s happened to all of us. Don’t be sorry– _please_. By the way, did you hear that the German actors–the ones who play the Nazis–are planning to join us for the Passover service we’re having in the hotel next week? I mean, think of what that symbolizes!" Steven's green eyes grew misty. "I’m sure I’ll be a mess...” He sighed. “Well–come on, Oskar. Let’s retouch your makeup and try that line again.”

His arm around Steven, Liam gladly returned to the set and to his task of portraying an unlikely hero of the Holocaust.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * ["Friendship"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12644523) by [Coralrose10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coralrose10/pseuds/Coralrose10)




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